


Not the Same.

by rise_excalibur



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3428264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rise_excalibur/pseuds/rise_excalibur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set after series 2 in which the second rising refers to the dead rising again and not warming up.<br/>'They were not the ones to find Rick. Didn’t even know he had been found until after he had already been transported to Norfolk. His rising hung like a damp shroud over the bungalow, seemingly light yet able to cling to Simon's every crack and crevice. He could not tell if Kieren noticed. He watched white eyes drift toward windows, not knowing if they were wistful and searching or the innocent glances of a meandering mind. Did not know if they saw combats and staples or woollen jumpers that felt more brittle with every day that passed. And those days did pass, crisp diary pages slowly turning until the eve of Rick's return to Roarton was upon them.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Same.

When the second rising finally happened, there was none of the panic and commotion of the first. The rising was no longer an unknown and unimaginable threat; the defence stratagem already existed, the people already prepared.  
  
Those first few days brought thoughts of Amy, tentative and hopeful, and on the third dawn, Kieren and Simon joined Philip in his scouring of the woods. On a morning of blanket mists and muted footfalls, they searched for their fallen friend, but in vain. Amy Dyer was nowhere to be found. Yet their efforts were not for nought. For every untreated PDS sufferer they found and passed safely to the treatment centre was one less caught by Gary and his brutality.  
  
They were not the ones to find Rick. Didn’t even know he _had_ been found until after he had already been transported to Norfolk. His rising hung like a damp shroud over the bungalow, seemingly light yet able to cling to Simon's every crack and crevice. He could not tell if Kieren noticed. He watched white eyes drift toward windows, not knowing if they were wistful and searching or the innocent glances of a meandering mind. Did not know if they saw combats and staples or woollen jumpers that felt more brittle with every day that passed. And those days _did_ pass, crisp diary pages slowly turning until the eve of Rick's return to Roarton was upon them.  
  
***  
  
The light from the television cast dim shadows in the living room of the bungalow, flickering lights playing across Kieren's face. Simon watched from the doorway, hesitating at the boundary between one room and the other. It was now, at the eleventh hour, that Simon truly felt the expanse between them rush upon him, churning in the dead space beneath his skin. The encroaching night was chasing away the last of the light in the room and with it his hours with Kieren. Because Rick was coming back tomorrow. The boy Kieren had killed himself over. He was coming back and Simon, like so many times before, was going to be left behind in the vacuum. He had had months to prepare for this moment, to decide what he was going to do. He had contemplated fighting for him. Had thought, _what would Amy do?,_ and knew that she'd have held on to him with both hands, would have went down kicking and screaming. But then his thoughts turned to the beautiful boy before him and he knew he couldn’t do it. If Rick was what he wanted...then Simon would let him go. Kieren was tenacious. If he wanted Rick, there would be nothing Simon could do to stop him. To try would just be painful for them both. The thought was sickly, stones sinking in a starved stomache. Simon would let him go.  
  
Folded into the sofa, Kieren stretched his neck to face Simon, the borrowed jumper slipping down his shoulders. He was silhouetted against the window, orange street lights framing his head in a hazy halo.  
  
“What are you skulking in the doorway for?”  
  
Pale white eyes shone up at him. It was time. Simon lifted his deadened fingers to pick at the paint peeling from the door frame. “Shouldn't you be heading home?” he said, eyes focussed on the flecks of white paint gathering beneath his nails. Kieren chuckled from the corner.  
  
“Sick of me already! And we only got through 3 of my dads 'must watch blu-rays' as well!”

Simon was silent for a moment, considering how best to continue. Voice carefully levelled, he pressed his point further-“Your parents will be worrying.”

With a snort, Kieren shifted back round to face the television, oblivious to Simon's stiffened shoulders, his unblinking stare.

“doubt it. I mean, im already dead, what worse can I do?” He replied, flipping through the TV channels.

 _Flick_. Sappy romantic music fills the room. _Flick_. Machine gun fire reverberates in the air. _Flick_. Ocean waves lull against the shore. _Flick_. A plate crashes to the floor. The flashing lights and white noise from the speakers chase Simon's non-existent heart beat from his chest and up his throat.  
  
“They'll worry” He choked out.

Kieren sighed, turning the television set off and plunging the room into sudden darkness.  
  
“Alright, alright, cant wait to be rid of me, eh?”  
  
Simon almost wishes for the noise to come back. The ensuing silence is deafening, thickening the air. The whites of Kieren's eyes peer out at him through the darkness and tighten with something akin to betrayal.

“You are tryin' to get rid of me!”  
  
Simon doesn't reply. He is. He is trying to get rid of him. Only he hadn't planned it out as thoroughly as he had thought he had. Had thought Kieren would go along with it.  
  
“Simon?”

He should have known better, really.  
  
“Time to leave, Keiren.” Simons voice was harsh, final.  
  
Kieren clambered to his feet, confused. “Not until you tell me what's goin' on!” he said, taking a tentative step towards the other man.  
  
Simon shook his head- “Nothing is going on”  
  
“Like hell there isn't” Kieren yelled, stepping closer still, his voice raised. Communication had not always been there strong point and Kieren hated when Simon kept things from him. Wearily, Simon blinked down at the carpet.  
  
“It's nothing! You have a busy day tomorrow so just go home and rest, will you?!” He said, voice trembling.  
  
“A busy day? What-”

Simon could see clearly the moment comprehension dawned in Kieren's eyes. Reaching out a slow hand, Kieren continued, softer,

  
“Simon. Is this about Rick coming back?”  
  
Simons silence was reply enough. Kieren made an aborted movement to comfort Simon, reassure him but he stepped a way, out of Kierens reach.  
  
“Keiren, its okay. I understand.”  
  
  


Like a flash, Kieren was angry again. He threw his hands up in exasperation, his hollow laugh muted in the tense room. Words tumbled from Kieren's mouth as he began his rant, his ramble,

“So i'm not getting a say in this, am I? You think that just because Rick is back im gonna throw away the last nine months as if -  
  
“Kieren -”  
  
“- I havnt changed at all, or grown or -  
  
“Kier-”  
  
“- or overcome anything. Is that r-”  
  
“KIEREN”  
  
Kieren's jaw snapped shut, his eyes wide and expectant.

“Listen. Its not that I don't.... look. You loved Rick. More than anything. Loved him enough to kill yourself for. The last time you saw him was over eighteen months ago and a lot can happen in that time- you can _forget_ in that time. And can you honestly – _honestly –_ look me in the eye and say that you wont want him back when you see him again. 'Cos you might. You might.”  
  
Kieren was silent, unblinking, mouth twisting the way it always does when faced with an unwanted truth. It was all the answer Simon needed.  
  
“go on”  
  
“But I ...” Kieren hesitated, “...I’ll come see you tomorrow.”  
  
Simon closed his eyes, breathed sharply through the nose. No. He was not sure he could take a prolonged break. Best for it to be clean. Surgical.  
  
“No. Go to Rick.”  
  
Kieren looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes twitching as though they wanted to weep but didn't know how. Simon would not meet his gaze. With a sigh and a slow nod, Keiren mumbled a farewell, gently brushing past Simon through the doorway and into the hall. His feet padded against the carpet, muffled, then the front door closed with a click, leaving Simon alone once more.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the In The Flesh MiniBang
> 
> Posting this in chapters cos my computer keeps messing everything up!
> 
> Next chapter includes artwork from the lovely sweatersimon :) who you can find on tumblr here: http://queerzombies.co.vu/


End file.
